A Kingsbury Collection

by Karen Kingsbury

  She swallowed and glanced down at her hands as they twisted nervously. “I think so.”

  The evening music and sermon were getting ready to start and Ben took her hand. “Come on, let’s find somewhere to sit.”

  Maggie looked around. “Is she here?”

  “Deirdre? No. Her cousin invited her to Detroit for the week.”

  Maggie silently blessed the girl’s cousin and felt herself relax. If it wasn’t serious and Ben wasn’t in love with this other girl, then what was the harm of enjoying his company for one night?

  Their conversation continued, and Ben told her about his plans to be a district attorney. He seemed intently interested when Maggie told him her dream of writing for a newspaper one day.

  “This country needs people like you out there reporting the news, Mag.” It was the first time he’d called her that, and Maggie felt her heart lurch. Somehow it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, sitting next to him, pretending he was her boyfriend and not some other girl’s, hearing him call her Mag. A summer breeze danced over the dry field grass, and a praise band warmed up in the distance.

  Maggie studied him while he talked. His words came out slow and deliberately, honey leaving a jar, and confidence was as much a part of his facial features as his chiseled chin and dancing blue eyes. In all the hundreds of college age guys at the picnic, clearly Ben was the most desirable.

  With a sigh at the memory, Maggie stared sadly at Dr. Camas. “About that time I began having this, I don’t know … a strange feeling, I guess. It made me remember something that happened when I was in seventh grade.”

  Dr. Camas shifted slightly, his eyes locked on hers. “Why don’t you tell me about it, if you’re comfortable.”

  Maggie nodded. “I was at Camp Kiloka, at a church retreat the fall I was thirteen. The first night of camp I stayed up late into the night talking to my counselor … ”

  The moment took shape in Maggie’s mind, and she told the story, capturing every detail.

  “Do you ever pray about the man you’ll marry one day?” The older girl had asked. She was a college student, a volunteer who’d come along as a chaperone.

  Maggie had shrugged. “Not really. I guess I’m too young to think about it.”

  The college girl looked surprised. “Your parents are Christians, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I thought all Christian kids prayed about their spouses.”

  Loneliness stabbed at her. “My mom and dad are busy. We don’t … pray together much.”

  Maggie and the girl were inseparable the rest of the weekend, and when Maggie came home she had a changed attitude toward prayer. From that point on she had done as the girl suggested and prayed for her future husband, that he would stay strong in the Lord and that she’d recognize him when she saw him.

  Maggie was quiet.

  “Did you feel that way then, when you met Ben?” Dr. Camas folded his hands together and angled his head thoughtfully.

  Tears stung at Maggie’s eyes. “Sitting beside Ben Stovall that warm summer night in 1991, listening to him talk about his faith and feeling him so strong beside me, I could almost hear God telling me he was the one.”

  Without further prompting from the doctor, Maggie continued her story.

  As the evening wore on their conversation grew more personal. She told him how strict her parents had been and that she had never had a serious boyfriend.

  “Come on, Mag, there must be a string of guys pounding down your door.” The sky was growing darker, and the moonlight shone in his eyes, making a picture Maggie knew even back then she’d never forget.

  She considered his statement. Boys had always been interested. But her parents hadn’t allowed her to date until she was sixteen. And now that she was in college she was often too busy with her studies for serious boyfriends. Most of her social life was spent in group settings with friends from church. A gentle smile filled her face and she angled her head so their eyes met again. “No one special.”

  Ben grinned at her, and Maggie felt another rush of heat in her cheeks. “You know something? I knew from the beginning you were different.” She felt herself grow shy under his unwavering stare. “Do you know how many girls call themselves Christians but act like everyone else? Most of the girls I know have already given in.”

  Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Deirdre?” Was that why they weren’t more serious?

  Ben’s face filled with sadness and disappointment as he nodded. “She regrets it, but that doesn’t change the fact. She gave in and now she’ll never have that part of her back again.”

  “Is that why … ” Maggie was afraid to ask the question that welled in her heart, but she could tell by Ben’s expression he understood.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” He stared up at the stars for a beat. “I care about her a lot. I just can’t picture marrying her.”

  Though his statement sounded harsh, Maggie couldn’t say she disagreed with him. There was nothing arrogant in his tone, but his words made her thankful she was a virgin. Thankful she would never be considered damaged goods by Ben or any other man. For a moment she imagined how she might feel if she had already had sex—and she couldn’t help but wince. Ben’s words would have felt like stones cast directly at her heart.

  “You know what I mean?” He was waiting for her reaction.

  “Definitely.” Maggie nodded and thought of the friends she knew—some of whom attended various church college groups—who were having sex with their boyfriends. Since her junior high retreat she had believed what the college chaperone told her: “God has a plan for you, Maggie, if only you’ll follow His ways. Remember how special you are; God wouldn’t want you to give yourself away to anyone but your husband.”

  Maggie wasn’t sure she had understood the words then, but she understood them that evening at the picnic, with Ben inches from her. In that moment she felt sure she’d achieved something great and honorable by staying pure.

  The praise music was drawing to a close, the prayer meeting about to begin when Ben looked intently at her. “Maggie, do you believe in love at first sight, the kind of love that’s meant to be?”

  Maggie had felt her heart dissolving and she was thankful for the cover of night so that Ben couldn’t see the way her hands trembled. “I guess I believe God’s going to work things out for me. One day He’ll introduce me to the right guy.”

  “Can I tell you something?” Ben lowered his head so that there was no way anyone but Maggie could hear him.

  “Uh-huh.” Maggie kept her eyes focused on his. She wanted to shout out loud that yes, she believed in love at first sight, because she’d just experienced it. And that she would love him until the day she died. But all she said was, “I’m listening.”

  Ben hesitated, and Maggie could see how serious he’d become. “I feel something different with you, Mag. It’s like I knew you the moment I saw you.”

  Maggie drew back a few inches and glanced around. Her parents would not think kindly of her sitting so close to a guy she’d only met that day—even if she was a junior in college. “What about your girlfriend?”

  “I told you … she’s not my girlfriend. It’s nothing serious.” For a moment she wondered if he might actually kiss her. Instead he sat straighter, and in his eyes she saw the attraction he felt for her. “Maggie, would you mind if I called you sometime?”

  Even before she answered yes she knew that if she started dating Ben Stovall there would be no turning back. Her heart was drawn to him in every way that mattered, and whoever else she might meet in years to come would forever pale in comparison. The sermon lesson that night had been on fighting the good fight and persevering, on believing that God had a plan for His people, if they would only seek Him in love and truth.

  Maggie felt like he was speaking directly to Ben and her.

  Then why do you want to divorce him?

  The voice came out of nowhere, breaking through her memories, and Maggie jerked backward,
closing her eyes. She wasn’t ready to return to reality, to psychiatric hospitals, and to seven long years of lies and a marriage that was supposed to last forever but was about to end.

  She wanted to stay in that distant place for as long as possible, live again in that time when everything about the two of them was exactly what it should be, when plans God had for them were clearer than the evening summer sky over Cleveland.

  There was silence in the doctor’s office for a moment, and Dr. Camas finally cleared his throat. “Is this a stopping point for you, Maggie, or do you want to keep on? I have time.”

  If only that were where the story ended …

  “No, that’s enough.”

  Her heart was racing, and she gripped the edges of her seat so she wouldn’t run out of the office, tear down the hallways, and burst out the doors to freedom. She didn’t want to deal with the truth, the fact that she had done more than lie to Ben over the years. Sadly, she had lied to herself, too. Tears came hard and fast, making it difficult to breathe without sobbing.

  Help me, God. Give me strength.

  Weeping may remain for the night, but joy will come in the morning …

  She caught her breath. What was that last part? Joy? In the surprisingly comfortable silence Maggie pondered the thought and realized something she hadn’t before. That’s what had been missing: joy. A sinking feeling lodged itself in her stomach. It won’t come in the morning, not for me. I’m stuck forever in the weeping night.

  Dr. Camas leaned over and slid a box of tissues closer to her. “There you go. It’s okay to cry, Maggie. Crying is good. It means you’re getting ready to deal with the issues at hand.”

  Crying? Had she been crying all this time? She ran her fingertips over her cheeks and found them dripping with tears. This was the second time she’d cried without knowing it. Even here, under the care of a kind and gentle psychiatrist and with antianxiety medicine coursing through her veins, Maggie was losing it.

  The thought was discouraging and frightening, particularly because somehow she knew it meant she was closer to the truth than before. Terrifyingly close. Maggie took two tissues and dabbed at her face. “I can’t do this anymore, doctor. I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. It was a good session. I think we’re headed in the right direction.”

  Maggie feared the direction they were headed, the direction of honesty. She had kept herself miles from the truth since the day she and Ben married—since before that even. And now here she was walking backward in time, hurtling toward the place where she would have to reckon with her past. And with it, every demon and monster and vestige of blackness that had tormented her over the years.

  In that moment, it was all much more than Maggie was ready to take.

  10

  The drive from Los Angeles International Airport to Santa Maria was beautiful, oak trees draped in mild fall colors, foot-high grass blowing gently over the rolling hills. For most of the way, the Pacific Ocean lay sprawled on Ben’s left and more than once he was tempted to pull over, to find a place alone on a rock and stare out to sea. He needed to talk with God but since he wanted to get to Santa Maria before nine o’clock, he held his conversation in the car.

  Where had he gone wrong? He asked God over and over, and each time he felt the same thoughts fill his head: Love deeply. Love covers a multitude of sins.

  Ben tried, but he could not make sense of the Scripture in light of what was happening. Who had sinned? Had Maggie done something crazy? Was she seeing someone else on the side? Ben almost laughed out loud. It was impossible. She was a committed Christian, a woman who had saved herself and been a virgin bride. A woman who had loved him the way he loved her—completely—since the day they first met.

  Ben remembered that meeting and felt tears sting his eyes. He blinked hard and forced them back. He needed to concentrate, not fall apart. Of course Maggie wasn’t having an affair. So what is it, Lord? Why that Scripture?

  Love covers a multitude of sins, My son. Love deeply.

  Ben stared ahead in the distance and barely noticed the way the sun shimmered on the ocean. It would be twilight soon, and again he was drawn to pull over and get out. Maybe rail at God for letting this happen or cry out loud at the top of his lungs. He did love deeply, and look where it got him! His wife was losing her mind, locked up in a mental hospital and refusing his phone calls and visits. What good had loving deeply ever done for him?

  Love as I have loved you …

  A twinge of something that resembled fear struck a chord on the keyboard of Ben’s mind. Why did it feel like God had something against him? This was Maggie’s fault, the whole mess. He would be patient, of course. If there were secrets, he was willing to uncover them and then forgive her, whatever it was. So what did God mean by implying he hadn’t really loved Maggie?

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wrestling with the still small voice through Cambria and Lompoc and finally into Santa Maria. It was quarter to nine when Ben pulled up in front of the Johnson house.

  Maggie’s mother must have heard his car because she appeared at the door wearing wool slacks and a sweater, her hair pulled back severely in the familiar bun. Ben climbed out of the rented car and made his way up the walkway. The Johnson home was modest and the result of good planning on the part of Maggie’s father. Since his death, Madeline Johnson had lived here alone with her memories, connected not to people but to a host of charitable organizations and busy work. Ben hadn’t told her what was happening with Maggie, only that there was a problem and he needed to see her immediately.

  “Good evening, Ben.” She nodded curtly, making no effort to hug him. Instead she stepped back and gestured for him to come inside. When they were seated in the living room, she sat stiffly, her hands folded, and sighed. “I’m not sure I understand why you’re here. But whatever it is it must be important.” She hesitated, almost as if she did not want to ask the next question. “Is everything okay with Maggie?”

  For the first time since meeting Maggie’s mother, Ben wished they had a closer relationship. His parents had gone back to Africa after he and his brothers were grown, so they had little contact. It would have been comforting if only this one time he could break down in front of this woman and know he would have her care and support. But since that wasn’t the case, he drew a deep breath and pondered how best to explain the situation. “Maggie’s had a breakdown.”

  Madeline angled her head sharply and frowned. “A what? What type of breakdown?”

  Weakness, perceived or otherwise, was something Maggie’s mother hated. She wore the look of someone who had caught a whiff of week-old trash.

  Help me here, Lord. I need to make her understand how important this is.

  “What I mean is, Maggie’s taken some time off work … she’s at a facility … a place where they help people figure out what’s wrong. Do you understand what I’m saying, Mrs. Johnson?”

  Madeline’s face lost some of its color, but otherwise there was not a flicker of emotion. “Maggie’s at a psychiatric hospital? Is that what you mean?”

  Ben nodded. “She’s not been well. Things … they’ve been getting worse over the last few years.”

  “She never mentioned a word to me … ” Madeline huffed softly, clearly indignant that her only child wouldn’t have trusted her with such information.

  “Well, Mrs. Johnson, she didn’t say much to me about it either. A few days ago the state took the twin foster boys out of our home, and then yesterday Maggie checked herself into the hospital.”

  Ben thought about telling her how Maggie was refusing contact with him, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to give her any reason to be less than honest with him about the questions he needed to ask.

  “Is that why you’ve come?” Madeline leaned slightly back into the sofa as though it pained her to relax even a little.

  “No … I mean, yes. The truth is Maggie keeps alluding to the fact that I don’t really know her.”

&n
bsp; Ben was studying her closely, watching for signs that Maggie’s mother might understand more about her daughter than she’d ever let on to him—and for a fraction of an instant there was a flicker in her eyes. A knowing look, as though Maggie’s comment hadn’t come as a surprise at all. Ben felt a surge of hope.

  She knows something. Come on, Madeline, clue me in here.

  “I’m sorry, Ben.” Madeline’s face softened some. “This must be very hard for both of you. I wish Maggie’s father were still alive. He … he always knew how to talk to her.”

  They were veering off track. “Listen, I’m here because I think you can help me make sense of what Maggie’s saying. She wrote me a letter, too … before she went to the hospital.” A lump appeared in Ben’s, throat and he had to swallow hard before he could continue. “She said something about having lied to me.”

  Madeline Johnson sat perfectly still.

  “So … I’m trying to find out the truth, whatever it is.”

  Madeline stood in a rush of motion and waved one hand in Ben’s direction. “Well, young man, I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time. I don’t have the slightest idea what Maggie’s talking about.” She made her way into the kitchen and returned with two cups of coffee. She handed one to Ben, black like he drank it. “Have you and Maggie prayed about this issue, whatever it is?”

  Ben sighed and let his head fall gently into his hands. He rubbed his temples searching for the right words. “I think we’re past that at this point.”

  “Past prayer?” Madeline shot him a disapproving look. “I didn’t think there was such a thing.”

  Help me, Lord … “Of course not … not in that sense. It’s just that Maggie’s really hurting right now, and I have to find out what she means. What did she lie about?” He paused. “My guess is it’s something relatively minor, like maybe she hasn’t wanted to live in Cleveland all these years … or she doesn’t want to work for the paper anymore … something like that.” Liar! A voice in his mind taunted. You think she’s seeing another man. Admit it. “Whatever it is, it’s eating her up. It’s destroying her, Mrs. Johnson, and if you can help me at all … ”